This is Thirty – Day 84 – Errands & Interactions

I am currently already in bed. Rami is at work until at least 1:30 or 2:00 am. After months of having Rami home at this point every night, Luna is thoroughly confused and is refusing to settle. I knew this would happen, but at eight months, she is still thoroughly a puppy, and if I’m not watching her, she is definitely going to get into something.

We had a quiet morning before he went off to work at 4:30 pm. The construction outside our window has finally ceased their drilling at 7 am every morning and today they weren’t even here – so we woke up to birds instead of noise. Though it was cloudy and colder, it certainly isn’t cold, and so we walked to the grocery store with Luna, passing by the man that walks up and down the line of cars stopped at the red light asking for change. To me, he’s just another neighbor. He whistles to Luna as we head down the street and we call our Ciao’s across traffic. Today he told us his latest worries as he leaned on his crutch and stuck out his other hand to pet Luna. His ex-wife shares custody of his kids back in his home country. He tries to save up money to visit them.

When we made it to the grocery store, we were getting our cart when the cashier that loved Stitch the most walked in to start his shift. He asked how we were doing and pet Luna on the head half-heartedly and walked inside to start work. Stitch can’t be replaced in the Esselunga, even with the little bossypants we have now. She doesn’t love people as our first Frenchie did. She is much more dog. I still to this day think Stitch was 100% convinced he was a human – and if not human, still definitely not a dog. And people loved that.

After we left, however, Luna took on her brother’s personality and refused to walk home, much preferring her padded carrier-bag (yes we own one and it is amazing and I refuse to be embarrassed). Once again, I will stress this; If you want to get in shape, screw weighted vests and workout plans. Just get a Frenchie.

Then it was the normal quick lunch, and as many began the end of their day, we began ours.

I’ve now persuaded my puppy to at least sit still in bed with peanut butter on her bone that was cut from the butcher. If he knew I had slandered a perfectly beautiful dog’s bone by smothering it in processed Americanness, I’m sure he’d be horrified. But to quote another one of my “neighbors,” Machiavelli. the ends justify the means.